


Interesting Concept But Poor Execution

by ironccap



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Being Walked In On, Crack, Declarations Of Love, Domestic Boyfriends, Don't expect too much, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Sketches, Superheroes, These are just one-shots, a place to put all my drabbles, social distancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:34:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24866152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironccap/pseuds/ironccap
Summary: Basically a place where I will dump all one-shots. You can always follow me/ask for more requests on mytwitter.
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote, Raquel Murillo/Professor | Sergio Marquina
Comments: 30
Kudos: 117





	1. Spider-Man does whatever a spider can

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sergio walks in on Andrés and Martín in a questionable position.

It was 10:30 pm on a Friday evening. Andrés was supposed to go out and party today, but instead he was sitting in bed, reading one of the newer books he had purchased at the bookstore only days earlier. 

He loved to go out, but he couldn't. Not today, when his little brother Sergio had come back from the hospital after he had been there for three weeks. He wanted to be there for him.

Sergio had told him repeatedly that he could leave if he wanted to, but he'd insisted to stay. 

So that's why he was now sprawled out on his bed with his book. He was intensely reading the last chapter already, time sure did fly when you started to read, when he heard a little knock at his window. Startled, he got out of bed and walked towards the window.

He saw the shadow of a man, a boy really, standing on his balcony. Slowly, he went to his nightstand to take his flashlight.

The knocking repeated itself only moments later, accompanied by a string of curse words. Andrés wasn't scared easily, but the thought of a stranger, perhaps a burglar, trying to break into his house when it was only him and his little brother present, sent shivers down his spine.

Andrés carefully clicked on the flashlight, shining right into the burglar's eyes, and was about to dial the emergency number, when he recognised the face of the man staring back at him.

What the _fuck_.

Perplexed, he dropped his phone.

" _Martín_?" he said, dumbfounded and shocked, opening the window in one quick motion. What was he doing here?

" _Dios_ , finally. I was freezing out there," Martín said, climbing into the room.

Andrés couldn't do anything else than just stare at his boyfriend.

"Care to explain why you climbed your way to my window?" Andrés asked, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

Martín just shrugged. "I was bored at the party, it's not the same when you aren't there. And Denver kept being annoying. So that's why I wanted to come and visit you."

"You know that doors exist, right?" Andrés asked.

"I do, but you also know it isn't a big deal for me to climb the wall. Besides, I wanted to surprise you," Martín answered, a smile on his lips. 

As strange as it may sound, Martín wasn't just a regular guy. He had a superpower, it made him stick to walls, made him inhumanly fast and gave him an overdose of stamina, which in all honesty, Andrés didnt mind. It surely did come in handy from time to time.

"Yeah, you definitely did surprise me, _mi querido_ ," Andrés said, laughing, "I thought there was a burglar. I was about to call 112. I hope no one saw you, though."

Andrés didnt want other people to know about who Martín really was. Not because he was ashamed, but because _mundanes_ usually didn't handle the knowledge of someone with superpowers all too well. Andrés didn't want his boyfriend to become a target.

He and Martín had moved to sit down on Andrés' bed. Martín saw the book Andrés had been reading only moments before laying on the bed. He took it in his hands, inspecting it.

"Seems like a fun occupation on a Friday evening," he said in a mocking way. 

"Don't disrespect books like that, they're fun and interesting," Andrés said. 

"I can think of more interesting things to do," Martín said, wiggling his eyebrows. 

"Oh, do you now?" Andrés said, taking the book from Martín and putting it on the nightstand, "show me, then."

That was Martín's cue to throw his entire body onto Andrés, carefully placing his lips on the other man's softly. 

He went to sit more upright, one hand placed on Andres' cheek and the other gripping at the base of his neck, pulling the hair on the nape of his neck. 

Andrés gently covered Martín's hand on his cheek with his own, leaning into the kiss once more. It was a shy kiss, soft but full of love, like always. Andrés didn't need words to tell Martin how much he loved him and it seemed like the latter understood exactly what he meant as well.

When they parted again, however, Martín seemed not to let go of Andrés' neck. Andrés raised his eyebrows at that. Immediately, Martín seemed to have realised what had happened. 

His hand was stuck, glued to Andrés' neck.

The ability Martín had to stick to walls meant that he could manage the stickiness of his hands. He only lost control of his abilities when he wasn't focusing on them, that's what he had told Andrés the first time it had happened. And that was exactly what was happening as well right now. 

Andrés couldn't blame him. The moment his lips would crash into Martín's, it would the only thing on his mind, something all-consuming. If he had had superpowers, the same thing would have happened to him.

" _La concha de tu madre_ , this is the fourth time this has happened in one week," Martín mumbled, his cheeks heating up. He buried his face in Andrés' neck, probably too embarrassed to look at him.

Andrés let out a soft laugh, bringing his right hand to Martín's hair, scratching it lightly.

"I really make you lose control, huh?" Andrés said, as a joke. Martín just groaned at that, clearly not appreciating his teasing remark.

"Andrés, don't make fun of me," he said, almost whining.

"I'm not!" Andrés said, protesting, followed up by a sigh, rolling his eyes. He put his finger under Martín's chin then, forcing the other to make eye contact with him.

"I'm not," Andrés repeated, "I would never do that. I know you can't control your spider-senses. I just find it endearing, my love." 

Andrés finished his sentence by giving Martín a quick and innocent peck on his nose, before lowering his head again and planting the next kiss on his lips, "And, I guess we will be stuck for a while, until the glue wears off, so if anything, this happening is a convenient excuse for me to keep on kissing you," he added, followed up by a deeper kiss.

Martín snorted at that, but seemingly grateful for the opportunity anyway, he returned the kiss with equal amounts of passion. 

Andrés loved it when Martín deepened kisses, it made him able to taste his sweet, soft lips. To drown in them.

Andrés detached his lips from Martín's, only to attack his neck a few seconds later. This sudden change made Martín draw out a shaky moan, followed by Andrés' name rolling off of his tongue sweetly.

Of course — because God hates Martín Berrote and Andrés de Fonollosa — this was the exact moment at which Andrés' little brother Sergio decided to barge into the room. Without knocking, obviously. 

"Andrés? Andrés what are you d—, is that the Spider-Man?" the little kid asked, all in one breath. If it weren't for Martín literally being glued to his boyfriend, he would have fallen off the bed right that instant. When Andrés looked at him, he seemed shocked not only at the fact that they had been walked into by his little brother, but also because the kid seemed to know about Martín's secret identity.

Andrés tried to sit a little bit more upright, Martín still literally sitting in his lap, and turned to address Sergio.

"That's a lot of questions, little brother. Try again," he answered. 

Sergio sent him a glare, then. Adjusting his glasses, he tried again, "Why is the Spider-Man sitting in your lap?" 

Before Andrés could answer, Martín interjected. 

"How did you know I'm the Spider-Man?" he asked.

Sergio just shrugged, "I saw you last week when you were fighting with those aliens, in the park, right when we went out for a picnic with my class. I remember that one of them ripped your mask off for a split second. Then I saw your face," he said. 

Andrés cringed at the memory of the fight in the park. It had been brutal and he had been scared. He had seen all of it happen before his eyes. He was supposed to pick Martín up for a date there, when a UFO had landed in the middle of the whole park. The aliens had carried guns, and they had weird powers that made them shift shapes. Andrés had felt powerless, because he couldn't help Martín without superpowers. He'd been so relieved when backup had finally arrived.

"Oh, well, yes. That's me. You can't tell anyone, though," Martín answered, ripping Andrés out of his thoughts and back into the present.

Sergio nodded, seemingly pleased with the agreement. But then, his eyebrows were knitting together again, his eyes darting between Martín and Andrés.

"Whatever it is, spit it out, _hermanito_ ," Andrés said. 

"But why is he sitting in your lap?" 

Martín coughed once, and simultaneously Andrés felt his cheeks grow hot. 

"He's stuck," Andrés simply said. It wasn't the full truth, but hey, it wasn't a lie either. 

"I thought super-people only lost control of their powers in extremely distracting situations," Sergio said, his eyes thoughtful. It looked as if he was trying to put together a very difficult puzzle of at least 2000 pieces.

"Someone did their research," Martín mumbled. It made Andrés laugh softly into his neck.

"Yeah, well. But Sergio, hermano, why are you here?" Andrés asked, cutting the topic of 'let's embarrass Martín' short.

"I couldn't sleep," Sergio said, his eyes sad, all of a sudden.

"Do you want me to come over and read you a bedtime story?" Andrés suggested. He saw Sergio shake his head fervently.

"Can Spider-Man do it?" Sergio asked, shyly, looking at Martín with hope in his eyes. 

"Sure, little man, I'm coming," Martín said, not even bothering sharing a look with Andrés. He didn't have to. Andrés trusted Martín with his life, he always had. 

Martín stood up from the bed, but got pulled back immediately, toppling over Andrés, who had starting to get into a decent sitting position. Andrés was surprised at first, but then he remembered the hand-glued-to-the-neck situation. He had to surpress a laugh when he heard Martín groan.

"You can already go to your room, I'll be there in a few minutes to read," he heard Martín say, who smiled apologetically as he gestured to the troubling situation with his free hand. Sergio nodded, grinning from ear to ear, and left the room. 

When Martín turned back around, Andrés found himself staring right into those beautiful blue eyes of his beloved. 

"He's a big fan of you," he said, "but I never told him that I knew you. I'm still not sure if it's safe to show everyone your true identity. You could get killed," he wiped some of the hair out of Martín's face.

"I know. I understand that you didn't tell him about me before," Martín said, smiling at his boyfriend.

"But now he'll probably be fan-boying over you twenty-four seven," Andrés said, sighing. It made Martín chuckle. 

"Oh, the price you have to pay because of your superhero boyfriend," Martín said dramatically, "it's truly a _crime_!"

"Oh, shut up. You know I love you. I wouldn't have it any other way," Andrés playfully said, stealing a little kiss from Martín again.

"I love you too," Martín said. Andrés felt the other's hand starting to move against his neck again, meaning the glue of the web had come off. 

Martín carefully detached his hand from Andrés' neck, cleaning off the webs, "now, I'll go read your brother a wonderful story," he said before climbing out of the bed, ready to walk to the door. 

But then Andrés' curled his hand around Martín's wrist, making him turn back around, locking eyes.

"Thank you, for doing this. For being there for him, for me. You know he's sick. It's gestures like these that make his day. Make mine, too. So thank you. I know you probably had other ideas in mind," he rambled, a glint of sadness in his eyes when mentioning Sergio's illness, that was quickly replaced by one of gratitude. 

"You know I'm always here for you, Andrés. I love you and I care about you. So much. As long as it's time spent with you or the people you care about, it's time well spent," Martin answered back. He took Andrés hand to place a gently kiss to it, and then he walked out of the door. 

Andrés smiled at him, thankful for having him in his life. Then, he remembered how happy it would make Sergio to have a bedtime story be told by his hero, the Spider-Man. He also remembered how Sergio hadn't shut up about web-slinging a few days earlier. 

"Oh, Martín! If he asks you to go web-slinging, you decline his offer!" he yelled right before Martín was out of his sight.

"I can't promise you that! After all, Spider-Man does whatever a spider can! And that includes making webs!" Martín yelled, rounding the corner and disappearing. 


	2. yo te propuse fundir oro juntos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martín combed a hand through his hair, trying to piece everything together, and once again failing. 
> 
> "You were going to declare me your love from the grave, by giving me cues? By letting me solve a riddle?"

"Will you, please, for the love of God _, shut the fuck up_?" Martín screamed, his voice shaking as he did it. He was used to yelling and snarling, although he had never once yelled at Andrés. Ever.

But he couldn't contain his anger anymore. Not right now. Not after what he had seen on the news, only days earlier. He'd seen how Andrés and his little group of robbers had escaped the Royal Mint. How Andrés had looked lifeless when they'd shot him up. 

He paced through the room, trying to busy himself with something, _anything_ , to make sure he didn't start slamming on the walls

"What were you thinking? What was your idea? You could have _died_ , Andrés. I thought you did die. You fell to the floor like a fucking rag doll and they broadcasted it, live on TV!" 

Andrés was standing in the doorframe. He hadn't moved from there ever since Martín had opened the door. He was staring at him, looking as calm as ever.

"I was thinking of dying there, Martín," he whispered then. Martín's head snapped up in a painful manner.

"You were _what_?!" he screamed.

"I'm dying anyway, Martín. I have my mother's disease," Andrés rationalised, "besides, I didn't die. I'm here now, right?" Martín wanted to punch him in the face for that. How dare he be so calm about what he had almost done.

"It's not an excuse. The thought about dying shouldn't even have crossed your mind," Martín answered, his anger melting away, being replaced by a sharp and stinging sadness. He heard Andrés sighing.

"I'm sorry, Martín. It's hard not to think of death when you're reminded of its proximity every time you look at your trembling hands," Andrés said, taking a deep breath, "I really thought that me sacrificing myself, would have been the best thing to do if things went south,"

"But, things did go south. They did. The plan was almost ruined, and yet, you're here. I mean, _thank God_ you're here! I just— I don't understand," Martín said then, rambling on full speed.

"Things went horribly wrong, yes. But the moment I heard the first bullet being fired, all I could think of was you. Your face and your laugh. And I froze. It was in that moment, that I realised I didn't want to pursue my self-sacrificing deed," Andrés said, walking over to Martín, "so I ran out of that tunnel. I, quite literally, ran for my life."

He stopped when they were both standing eye to eye.

"You gave me a purpose again. You gave me the strength to keep going. The only thing I wanted to see from that moment onwards, was you," he almost whispered then, his hand gently caressing Martín's now tear-stained face, "because I love you. I've always loved you, Martín. But I never told you. I thought it would be impossible, with my disease. But, looking death in the eye and only thinking of you, it was a sign, that I should at least try."

Martín stared into Andrés' dark, brown eyes for a moment, the wires in his head going into overdrive. He couldn't process Andrés' words yet, and still, he was already acting on them by leaning in closer to the touch. 

"W-what exactly do you mean by that?" was all he could say, feeling dumb.

"By what?" Andrés asked.

"By the last sentences. The, uh, the love part," Martín drew in a short breath.

"Exactly what I said, Martín."

"But—," Martín got cut off.

"No. I meant _exactly what I said_. I love you. And, to be honest, I'm surprised you didn't know already," Andrés admitted.

That took Martín by surprise. How could he have ever suspected the mutual feelings shared by the man standing in front of him? Had Andrés expected Martín to figure it all out? Or had Martín been blind all along, and had Andrés' love for him been as obvious as Martin's own love for Andrés? 

"Andrés. I don't understand," Martín said, trying to calm down from the overwhelming amount of feelings that were coursing through him.

Andrés looked at him then, a bit sheepish. To others, it might have been a strange look on the always so confident man, but Martín had known Andrés for years, and was one of the few to get the privilege of seeing through his walls.

"You were right when you called me a coward, months ago, Martín. I wanted to tell you how much I loved you. But I didn't know how. And I couldnt. So, uh, I might have left you some cues. For you to find when I was gone. It would have been cruel, I realise that. They're in the upper drawer of my nightstand," Andrés admitted, and if he had been anyone else, Martín would have sworn he was nervous.

Martín combed a hand through his hair, trying to piece everything together, and once again failing. 

"You were going to declare me your love from the grave, by giving me cues? By letting me solve a riddle?" he asked, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

" _No_! Not like that!" Andrés said immediately, his voice a bit louder. He cleared his throat, "It's not a riddle. They're sketches. Of you, of us, just—," he trailed off, sighing, "Go look for yourself."

Martín nodded, functioning on autopilot as he walked over to Andrés' room. A lot had happened in the past twenty minutes he'd been awake. Part of his brain still wasn't sure it was all real.

Reaching Andrés' bedroom, he walked over to the nightstand immediately, spotting Andrés' little sketchbook in the drawer. He locked eyes with Andrés for a moment, needing the reassurance that he was allowed, before opening the hard cover of the book.

Immediately, he was greeted with his own face staring back at him, looking happy. This was on Christmas Eve, right after Martín had played Andrés some songs on their piano. There was a little note scribbled in the bottom corner. Martín's eyes widened when he read it.

— _**You looked beautiful today.**_

Martín swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, but he refused to lock eyes with Andrés. He knew that if he would do that now, he would lose all of his self control, and he would break down crying.

Instead, he turned the page. The next ones were mostly dedicated to hands, his hands, sketched all over the two pages. There was also a little drawing of him, writing some equations on the chalk board. And then, something Martín would've never expected from Andrés, because it was simply too adorable.

Next to the equation on the board, Andrés had written "A + M", together with yet another quote.

— _**You're so smart, I admire you.**_

The pages went on like that, usually being close-ups of Martín, catching him doing various little things, from dancing in the garden to snoring on the couch. It was all there, captured by Andrés' outstanding talent.

When Martín reached the last page, he finally burst out in tears. He couldn't do it anymore. It was overwhelming and it felt surreal. If this were a dream, he would never want to wake up, ever again. 

But it wasn't a dream. It was very much real, and the soft touch of Andrés' hand on his back right now, was all the proof needed. 

Andrés wiped away Martín's tears, preventing them from staining the drawing in front of them. Martín looked at the piece of art again, the face of him and Andrés, side by side, holding hands. He stroked his thumb over the carefully written words underneath it. 

— _**I wished we could have melted gold together**_.

Martín closed the book, turning to Andrés. That line held a promise, he thought. It was written in a way that perfectly captured Andrés' regret over his self-sacrificial decision, confirming that that was never his initial plan.

Confirming that his future would've involved Martín. That they would melt gold together. 

Confirming that Andrés loved Martín.

Martín pressed their foreheads together then, still crying as he spoke, "You're lucky that you're still alive. If you'd left me behind with this, I would have gone to the afterlife myself, just to scream in your face for an eternity, _pelotudo_." 

Andrés feigned an offensive look at that, "I pour my heart out, and I get an insult back. I see how it is." 

"Oh, shut up. You know that I love you," Martín answered, rolling his eyes at Andrés' familiar antics. 

Then, he locked their lips together, for the first time ever. He couldn't contain the butterflies that were spreading in his stomach anymore, threatening to escape. 

All this time, Martín had thought that he was the only poet, the only one with a muse. He'd been wrong. His so-called muse, had seen him as a piece of art as well, as something to cherish. To hold on to. 

And that was exactly what they were going to do.

Hold on to their love. 

Hold on to each other.

And then, they would melt gold. _Together_.


	3. heterosexuals should always social distance!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based on that one tweet where [floresnimri (jos)](https://mobile.twitter.com/floresnimri) said that Martín would make a big sign for the heterosexuals to practice their social distancing skills at all times. (this is crack)

Sergio was fumbling with his tie, and had been for the entire car ride to the monastery now. He looked nervous, Raquel could see it in the way he kept adjusting his glasses on his nose. 

She didn't understand why Sergio was nervous. They were visiting his _brother_ , of all people And sure, the boyfriend of Andrés acted hostile towards Sergio sometimes, what with all his yelling, but Raquel's experience learned her that barking dogs seldom bite. 

Raquel undid her seatbelt, then, and got out of the car. She patiently waited for Sergio, who locked the door before walking over to her. Intertwining their hands, they reached the gates of the monastery. 

But, instead of being greeted by Andrés, Martín was the one that appeared. The strange thing was that in his arms, he was holding a big sign, with a drawing on it. His jeans were covered in paint stains that matched the yellow of the board.

"Uh, hello?" Raquel said, unsure of what else to say. 

Martín let them walk over to the table in the garden, and planted the sign in the grass, in a hole he'd seemingly freshly delved. 

"Before we start this _wonderful_ evening, I have to point out the ground rules for you. Well, actually there's only one very important rule. And it's this," Martín said, tapping the sign behind him with a ruler. 

It was only now that Raquel could take one, good look at the sign. On the board, there were two silhouettes, clumsily sketched — if Martín had any ambitions to become the next Picasso, he could better bury those already. 

One of the silhouettes was clearly a female one, taking on the form of those you always see in public bathrooms, wearing a stereotypical dress. The other was that of a man. Between the two silhouettes, a big two way arrow was drawn, with " _1,5 m, keep your distance_ " written above it. 

"So, I suggest you follow this rule, or you won't get any food," Martín ended his rant, a satisfied smile on his face.

"You want me and Raquel to… sit almost two metres apart?" Sergio asked, his voice irked.

"That is correct! It's called social distancing, _baby_ ," Martín said, giving Raquel a wink. She snorted at that, shaking her head in an amused way.

"But—," Sergio started, but he got cut off by Andrés appearing in the door leading to the corridor of the monastery.

"Martín is right, _hermano._ We have to be careful, with everything that's happening in the world right now," he said. 

Raquel took place in one of the chairs, and Sergio did the same, keeping the distance between them, even though she could see in his eyes he was growing annoyed with the farces of his brother and Martín. 

Martín disappeared, probably getting some glasses and wine, and Andrés took place in one of the chairs. Raquel started some banter with him, mainly about how he was doing, and if they had seen any of the other members of the heist group after they escaped the Bank of Spain. After a while, Sergio jumped into the conversation as well.

After a few minutes, Martín reappeared with what were indeed glasses and a bottle of red wine. He placed them on the table carefully, and then walked over to the chair which Andrés was sitting on, practically jumping in his lap. He gave Andrés a small, chaste kiss on the lips, and tried to catch up with the conversation.

Except, this was the moment in which Sergio started to protest. Raquel turned around, watching how he was growing more and more frustrated. 

"Wait, hold on. We have to sit apart, to respect the social distancing rule, but you can share the same _chair_ and no one cares?" he said. 

Martín started grinning from ear to ear, looking almost happy that he was annoying Sergio. Raquel had to force herself to keep it together. 

"That, my dear Sergio, is correct! The sign explicitly states that a man and a woman should be careful, and perform social distancing at any moment!" Martín said, "but, since Andrés and I are - _thank God_ \- both men, it doesn't apply to us."

Sergio sputtered at that, combing a hand through his hair. Raquel saw that Martín shared a look with Andrés, a glint in his eyes. They were both looking very smug. 

"I see. It's a sign telling heterosexuals to keep their distance," Raquel said, in a serious tone. She decided to jump aboard the 'annoy Sergio' train. It was amusing. 

"Yes, preferably at all times," Martín chimed in, laughing. 

"You guys are aware of how painstakingly annoying you are, right?" Sergio asked. That made Martín and Andrés laugh even more. 

"Don't be bitter, Sergio. It's not like I'm telling you to leave Raquel _forever,_ " Martín said in a joking way, but with a cold undertone to it. Raquel could hear Andrés whisper something calming to his boyfriend, but all her attention was on Sergio now. 

Sergio, who looked as if he was ready to give at least twelve counterarguments to what Martín had just said. Raquel discreetly cleared her throat, catching his attention. When Sergio looked at her, she shook her head, signaling that it _was not worth it_ and _let Martín have this victory._ She figured it was fair, after all what had happened in the past. Plus, it was actually funny to see Sergio get all frustrated at ridiculous things.

Sergio slumped back into his chair, taking a deep breath. Andrés picked up the conversation again, not making a big deal out of the little stab Martín had given Sergio. 

After a few hours, they were all chattering loudly. The argument from earlier had been drowned out by alcohol and music. Raquel got up from her chair, dancing towards Sergio. When he saw her coming, he offered her his hand, ready to start dancing.

Of course, this was the exact moment in which Martín and Andrés passed them, both entangled with each other, swaying to the rhythm. Martín took out his phone, and switched the music that came out of the boxes to an annoyingly loud alarm signal. 

"Keep your distance at all times!" he screamed over the noise, pointing to the ridiculous sign in the yard once again. Andrés laughed at that, smirking up to Martín, and took him in for a deep kiss.

As much as Raquel had liked the banter and joking before, she now felt the urge rise to just take the sign out of the ground and slam it on the heads of the excruciating pair in front of her.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! 
> 
> my twitter: [lcdpalermo](https://mobile.twitter.com/lcdpalermo)


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